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Do You Listen: Or Just Wait for Your Turn to Relate?

Oct 5
8 min read

Some people only seem to enter a conversation when they can locate themselves inside it.

You share something meaningful, and they immediately offer a related story.

You mention a trip, and they tell you about someone they know who has been there.

You share something exciting about your child, and they respond with what their child or neighbor is doing.

You talk about something difficult, and before you have really finished, they are telling you about the time something similar happened to them.

Most of us have probably done this.

Sometimes it is an attempt to connect.

Sometimes it is habit.

Sometimes we genuinely think, I know exactly what you mean. Let me tell you what happened to me.

But there is a subtle difference between relating to someone and redirecting their moment back toward ourselves.

And I think that difference is worth paying attention to.

Why do some people always bring the conversation back to themselves? Explore the difference between relating, redirecting, boundaries, and the deeper need to feel seen.

Not All One-Upping Looks Like One-Upping

The obvious one-upper is easy to recognize.

You had a difficult week. Theirs was worse.

You took a great vacation. They went somewhere better.

You accomplished something. They have already done it, or know someone who has.

But sometimes it is much more subtle.

The other person is not necessarily trying to beat your story.

They may simply be trying to establish their place in it.

You share something, and almost immediately they need to let you- or everyone else listening- know that they have a connection to it too.

I know someone there.

My daughter did that.

That happened to me.

We went somewhere similar.

I have a story about that.

And none of those statements are inherently wrong.

Sometimes they are perfectly appropriate.

The question is what happens next.

Did the comment create more connection?

Or did the original person disappear from their own story?


Why Do We Need to Locate Ourselves in Someone Else’s Moment?

There are a lot of reasons someone might do this.

Sometimes sharing our own experience is genuinely how we learned to show empathy.

We hear someone say, “I went through this,” and our instinct is to answer, “Me too.”

We are trying to tell them they are not alone.

But sometimes there may be something else happening underneath.

Maybe silence feels uncomfortable.

Maybe listening without contributing makes us feel invisible.

Maybe we are afraid we will have nothing interesting to say.

Maybe we want people to know that we have experience, knowledge, connections, or something valuable to contribute.

Maybe we need reassurance that we still belong in the conversation.

Underneath that impulse can sometimes be a quiet message:

I’m here too.

I matter too.

I know something about this too.

Don’t forget about me.

And I don’t think people are always consciously thinking any of those things.

That is what makes these patterns interesting.

Sometimes we repeat behaviors for years without ever asking why we do them.


Sometimes It Is Less About Competing and More About Claiming a Place

There is another version of this that can feel a little different.

Someone shares a milestone that belongs primarily to them, a marriage, a child, an accomplishment, an anniversary, a new chapter; and another person responds by inserting their own history or relationship into the moment.

The comment may be completely loving.

It may come from nostalgia.

It may come from genuine affection.

But it can still carry the feeling of:

Remember, I have a place in this story too.

That does not automatically mean the person is being possessive.

It does not mean the comment was malicious.

But it does raise an interesting question.

Why can it sometimes be difficult to simply witness another person’s moment without establishing our own connection to it?

Why can’t the response simply be:

“I’m so happy for you.”

“That sounds wonderful.”

“You must be so proud.”

“Tell me more.”

Sometimes listening is enough.


Not Every Story Needs Your Story

This may be the simplest way I can say it:

Not every story needs your story.

Sometimes someone is sharing because they want to be heard.

They do not necessarily need to know that something similar happened to you.

They may not need your example.

They may not need you to prove that you understand.

Sometimes the most loving response is curiosity.

“How was that for you?”

“What happened next?”

“How are you feeling about it?”

And then you keep listening.

That sounds simple, but for some of us it takes restraint.

Because while the other person is talking, our mind is already searching.

What can I say?

What experience do I have that is similar?

How can I contribute?

We may think we are listening when we are actually waiting for the opening that lets us enter the story.


Not Every Preference Needs to Be Voiced Either

This same pattern can show up in groups, communities, workplaces, and friendships.

Someone plans something.

They choose the date.

The location.

The format.

The details.

And almost immediately someone responds:

I wish you would do these on Saturdays.

You should do this closer to my side of town.

I would rather you did this instead.

Why don’t you offer it at this time?

There is nothing wrong with having preferences.

But there is a difference between having a preference and assuming every preference needs to be communicated to the person doing the work.

Sometimes an invitation is simply an invitation.

It works for you, or it doesn’t.

You attend, or you don’t.

The person planning it does not necessarily need to redesign it around everyone who would have chosen differently.

And this becomes especially noticeable when the person giving the feedback is not the one hosting, organizing, paying for, setting up, cleaning up, or taking responsibility for the alternative they are suggesting.

There can be an unconscious assumption underneath it:

If I am part of this community, what is being created should somehow accommodate me.

But belonging does not mean everything has to center our preferences.

Sometimes being part of a community means appreciating what someone else has created, even when we would have done it differently.

Sometimes the most appropriate response is simply:

That one doesn’t work for me. Maybe I’ll catch the next one.

No explanation required.

No redesign necessary.

No need to make the organizer defend why they made the choices they made.


Are You Listening or Waiting for Your Turn to Relate?

This is where I think the real self-reflection begins.

When someone tells you something, what happens inside you?

Do you become curious about their experience?

Or does your mind immediately start searching your own life for a related story?

Can you allow another person to have attention without needing some of it?

Can someone else’s accomplishment stand on its own?

Can someone else’s grief remain their grief without becoming the doorway to yours?

Can someone else’s vacation, marriage, child, career, illness, loss, or celebration simply belong to them for a few minutes?

That does not mean we never share our own stories.

Shared experiences are part of how human beings connect.

It simply means noticing when sharing becomes redirecting.


And Then There Are the People Who Say Nothing

There is another side to this that I find just as interesting.

Some people do not jump into the conversation at all.

They do not congratulate.

They do not comment.

They do not acknowledge the accomplishment.

They become noticeably quiet when someone else is being celebrated.

And again, we cannot assume we know why.

Maybe the relationship has become unhealthy.

Maybe they are tired of being used as an audience.

Maybe they have realized the friendship is one-sided.

Maybe they are setting a boundary.

Maybe stepping back is exactly what they need to do.

But silence can come from other places too.

Comparison.

Jealousy.

Resentment.

Feeling overlooked.

Feeling left behind.

Feeling as though someone else’s success somehow highlights what is missing in our own life.

The outward behavior may look exactly the same.

The reason underneath it can be completely different.


Is It a Boundary or Is Something in You Being Activated?

This is a question I think we have to be willing to ask ourselves honestly.

Did I step away because this relationship genuinely is not healthy for me?

Or did I step away because something about this person activates something uncomfortable in me?

Did I stop engaging because I am setting a healthy boundary?

Or am I withholding my attention because I want the other person to notice my absence?

Did I unfriend someone because there is no real relationship anymore?

Or because seeing their life brings up comparison, jealousy, or resentment I would rather not feel?

Those questions are not meant to shame anyone.

There are relationships we absolutely need to step away from.

There are people who use us, talk over us, dismiss us, or expect us to continually show up for them without ever showing up for us.

Leaving an unhealthy environment can be healthy.

But sometimes what feels like a boundary is actually a reaction.

And sometimes what looks like “being supportive” is really our need to insert ourselves.

That is why the behavior itself does not always tell us enough.

We have to look underneath it.


What Happened in You?

This is the question I keep coming back to.

What happened in you?

When someone redirected your story back toward themselves, what did you feel?

Annoyed?

Invisible?

Dismissed?

Did you think, Can I just have one thing that is mine?

Did their response touch an older experience of not being heard?

And when someone else was receiving attention, what happened in you?

Did you genuinely feel happy for them?

Did you feel left out?

Did you suddenly need to share something about yourself?

Did you pull away?

Did you feel irritated and not really understand why?

Our reactions give us information.

They do not always tell us the whole truth about the other person.

But they can tell us something about ourselves.


Listening Requires Something From Us

Real listening requires more than staying quiet until the other person stops talking.

Sometimes it requires letting someone else’s experience remain theirs.

It requires curiosity.

Restraint.

The willingness to not be the expert.

The willingness to not have the most interesting story.

The willingness to let someone else have the room.

And sometimes it requires recognizing that our need to relate is actually our need to be seen.

There is nothing wrong with wanting to be seen.

There is nothing wrong with wanting to belong.

But when we understand that need, we do not have to unconsciously meet it by stepping into every story someone else tells.

We can listen.

We can celebrate.

We can ask another question.

We can let someone have their moment.

And when we are on the other side, when we find ourselves pulling away, becoming irritated, comparing, or feeling invisible, we can get curious about that too.

Because sometimes the person in front of us is simply touching something that was already there.

The deeper question is not only:

Why do they always make it about themselves?

It is also:

Why do I need to make myself part of someone else’s moment?

And:

Why does it affect me so deeply when someone does that to mine?

Those are the questions that can take us somewhere useful.


If you recognize yourself somewhere in this, whether you are the one who keeps redirecting the conversation, the one who feels invisible, or the one who has started pulling away; there may be something deeper worth understanding.

These patterns are rarely just about one comment, one post, or one conversation.

They can be tied to old experiences of not feeling seen, needing to prove your place, feeling overlooked, or learning that connection meant finding a way to make yourself relevant.

If you are ready to understand the pattern underneath the behavior instead of just repeating it, reach out. This is the work I do.

Helping you notice what is happening beneath the reaction, understand where it may be coming from, and create a different way of relating to yourself and the people around you.


 
 
 

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